I Will Remember You
by coffee dazed
Summary: post-marriage arwen angst
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to 'Merlin'

**I Will Remember You**

She couldn't quite remember the exact moment it had happened. She supposed that it was one of those gradual things which crept up and you didn't realise until it was too late.

She recalled earlier times when the world did not matter so long as they had each other, when they could not wait to be alone. It had been a whirl of blissful change – he had assumed the throne following the demise of his father and begun the process of un-demonising the use of magic and allowing its return to the land. It had been due, in no small part, to Merlin's revelation. Who would have known that the quiet, unassuming servant actually wielded so much power and had spent all those years surreptitiously using his magic to keep his master safe. Merlin had overturned the long-held official stance that magic was purely evil.

The peace had endured for a long time during which her hopes and dreams had come true. She couldn't prevent the fond smile that appeared with the memory.

* * *

"_Guinevere, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, my princess?" It was just like a fairytale. He was down on bended knee, her hand held in his, blue eyes filled with hope and love. _

"_Yes, Arthur." There was no hesitation and those two words completed their happiness. He had scooped her up in his arms and they shared a kiss that would have made the angels blush.

* * *

_

A sigh escaped her as her thoughts turned to their wedding night. It was as clear in her mind as if it had just been yesterday.

The nimbleness of his fingers as he loosened the ties of her corset and dress, the warmth of his breath and his soft lips as they kissed each part of her body as it became exposed by his hand. Her legs had become jelly, eyes wide with nervous anticipation. She had let him guide her, follow his lead. He was so gentle, patiently amused by her wonder at his body as she tentatively explored him just as he did to her. As her confidence grew, he had given her experiences which she had not thought possible and (with some guidance from him) she had reciprocated with pleasure. She had not believed it possible for two people to fit each other so perfectly.

* * *

Each day had been a joy, each night even more so. They thought it would never end, but as with all things, it could not last forever. Threats from neighbouring kingdoms as well as forces from further afield had to be attended to, the day-to-day running of Camelot and well-being of the people required his availability to be accessible. Whilst the return of magic had been a positive move, there was always the danger from renegade magicians whose need for revenge against Uther was so great that it spilled over to his son despite the death of the old king.

So her husband was drawn away by necessity and with the continued presence of threats to his person, over time he became more and more preoccupied with the need to keep his friends and family safe. She had begun to feel smothered by his need to protect her, she couldn't go anywhere without a body of guards with her. Once or twice, she had given them the slip and the sense of freedom had been wonderful. The fight they had had when he found out had not been quite so wonderful.

_Why could he not see that he was over-reacting, that he was becoming his father in more ways than what might be desired? _

_Why could she not see that he was doing what he was doing out of love and he had to protect what was precious to him?_

At first, they had managed to resolve their arguments very quickly, enjoying the making-up afterwards. Over time, though, the arguments were not swiftly resolved and they would go to bed angry, backs turned to each other, the gulf between them widening as surely as the physical space that let in a draft down the centre of the bed.

* * *

She had spent much of her time alone crying, unable to understand how the happiness had turned into sadness, how they now regarded each other more as strangers than man and wife. Every so often, she might catch a glimpse of what almost looked like contempt in his eyes. In hers, he would see rebuke and recrimination.

For a lengthy time now, the fires of their passion had dulled to barely lit embers. The nights were no longer tender.

They had tried to talk, to recapture what they used to have but reconciliations fell apart as soon as they came across any differences of opinion.

In the end, it seemed clear to both of them that he no longer listened to either her opinion or advice and she had lost her belief and faith in him.

* * *

Then _he _suddenly arrived, dark eyes still flamed with yearning for her even after all this time. She had felt able to confide in someone for the first time in what felt like an age and she was flattered by his attention. She couldn't remember the last time her husband, the man she had given her heart and soul to, looked at her with anything approaching desire.

He refused to give in to his jealousy at _his _return. He saw the way _he_ looked at his wife and he wanted nothing more than to run his sword through this upstart but he would not rise to the bait, would not show weakness.

She confessed to herself that she did encourage Lancelot's attention. She wanted to see some type of emotion from her husband, wanted some sign that he still wanted her, that he would still fight for her. However, she saw no indications of that type. If anything, she felt nothing from him. It was as if he could not care less if she left that very second.

She continued to try and bait him by being more flirtatious but there was nothing, no flicker of anything. He plainly ignored her.

He swallowed his anger at her actions with Lancelot. He would _not_ give either of them the satisfaction of seeing him fuming and agitated.

He threw himself into his work, his role and duties as King of Camelot. He tried to block everything else from his mind. He tried not to think about her.

* * *

She stared out over the battlements, her brain spinning with confusion and torn emotions. Her marriage was in tatters. Lancelot had asked to her to be his lover, he had been ardent in his declaration of love for her. Part of her told her to accept, to find solace in his passion. He offered a lightness that had been missing from her life for longer than she cared to remember. The other part of her admitted that she was still in love with her husband and it would break her heart to forsake the vows she had taken with him.

But Lancelot was making her a very tempting offer…

Tears ran down her face as she felt herself crumbling with sorrow.

* * *

_**Apologies for more arwen angsty-ness, but hope u like it. Please review x**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **thanks to _casualp; dreamland4; mapo; llevene; SamsSmiles247; TheAngelGirl1992_ for their reviews.

Just want to say that I found myself drawn to super-angstyness by letting Gwen and Lancelot have an affair even though I also would like it to not be so (especially in the show). Also, with requests to **not** let them get together, I have decided to have it both ways by writing two endings :p

This is the first (I daresay unpopular) version…

* * *

_**Ending 1**_

He closed his eyes and drew in deep breaths, temporarily shutting himself off from Merlin's increasingly desperate shouts.

Re-opening his eyes, he viewed his oldest and greatest friend – no longer his servant, Merlin was Court Magician and Physician. Moreover, he was his most trusted advisor, the person he could count on for an even and honest opinion.

He studied the darker man who had retained his slender figure from his youth. The years had been kind to Merlin, there were few lines on his visage which still hinted at boyish mischief. Instead, his face held wisdom, knowledge and experience – some it gained through blood and sweat, some of it through happy coincidences but all with his king and friend at his side.

There was the faintest dusting of grey amongst the brown thatch of hair, the same as himself he guessed but it was only his blond hair that hid any grey of his own.

"Arthur, are you even listening me?" demanded Merlin. "You must go after her, you have to get her back!" Despair pulled at the sorcerer's heart. He couldn't believe that the great romance between his two best friends had come to this. Their union had been hard-won. Born from seeds sewn so many years ago it had survived great adversity from different women and men and open opposition, not least from the old king, to finally see them joyfully wed. It seemed unreal to him that Arthur would let Gwen go so easily. It seemed unreal that Gwen would have gone so easily.

* * *

He brought himself back to the present. He could tell that Merlin was simmering with barely contained frustration but he had already made his decision and it had not been made lightly.

"Merlin, stop. Please. What's done is done and cannot be changed." He felt old all of a sudden, far older than his years would suggest. Like his friend, he had also retained his boyish good looks but it was his eyes…

Anyone who studied those blue orbs for any length would see past the arrogant façade and see a weary cynicism there, a haunted look. They were eyes that had seen too much, endured too much.

Merlin's shoulders slumped in defeat, his head tilted questioningly. "What happened?" he asked Arthur softly.

What happened, indeed? It was a question he had asked himself over and over and the truth was he had no idea.

Of course, he had not been able to spend as much time with her as he would have liked but he was the king, there were just some things that he had to deal with in person. It just so happened that these things had been coming along one after the other with little or no time in between.

They argued more, but didn't all couples argue? The only difference was they hadn't been making-up afterwards. He couldn't communicate with her anymore, she took everything so personally without realising the dangers that surrounded them. She accused him of turning into his father.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut for a moment. Gods, he was tired. Tired of always looking over his shoulder, tired of the constant nagging concern he had for the safety of his kingdom, tired of the fights with her. He loved her so much, he still did but she just couldn't seem to see that. She knew he wasn't exactly the emoting type but she had been the one to unlock his softer side, the one who he felt he could demonstrate his feelings to.

They had their problems but he never thought they would be irreconcilable. How wrong could he be?

* * *

"I let her go." His words were a whisper that drifted to Merlin who said nothing, a confused expression on his face while he waited for his friend to continue.

"She made her choice." Blue eyes turned to Merlin. "If you love someone, set them free. Isn't that what they say?" He laughed then, a mocking sound directed at himself. "I guess I must love her an awful lot."

The sorcerer looked at him, full of sympathy. "What of Lancelot? Why didn't you stop him? Challenge him?"

It was a question he had also asked himself more times than he cared to remember and the answer was always the same.

"I don't know." He saw his former servant's dubious look. "I honestly don't." He paused, trying to collect his thoughts. "I…she…looked so happy. With him." His jaw clenched, eyes clouding with hurt and regret. "For the first time in so long, she looked…happy. Do you know, it was the same look she had when I gave her that rose all those years ago?"

Merlin nodded his head, recalling the event. "Yes, after you had been 'Sir William'."

"I couldn't take that away from her."

* * *

He had watched her ride away from the castle, from the home they had shared and once been so blissful in. At least she had spared him the humiliation of leaving with Lancelot. The errant knight had departed several days ago.

One last gaze over her shoulder as she went through the gates and she was gone.

How was he to know that just one kiss would have made everything better, that just one kiss and it would have been alright.

* * *

_**Ok, sorry to post this version first and for shamelessly ad-libbing Basement Jaxx lyrics. **_

_**Please review this x**_

_**I will post the happy version as soon as it's written :D**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: **so here it is, the happy ending. Enjoy :D

* * *

_**Ending 2**_

He had been so sure, so confident that she would leave without a second thought. Given the state of their marriage, it was hard to believe that she would do anything else. It had been a shock when she told him that no, she would not be going with him, that she loved her husband too much.

In the years since he had left her in that forest, he had not stopped thinking of her. He had regretted his departure almost as soon he had done it but he had made the honourable choice.

He could not believe that his travels would lead him back to Camelot and to Gwen. It had to be a sign. This time he vowed, he would make her his. It was no surprise to see the banners that declared the kingdom under the rule of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere and it was no surprise to find that they were well-loved by the people. However, this time he would not be swayed from his intent.

When he had presented himself at the castle, he could see that the pleasure she showed at seeing him was genuine, the pleasure from Arthur was slightly less so. He hadn't immediately seen the cracks between the royal couple, it had taken a little while before he realised that the slight strain they showed was not from the pressures of ruling the kingdom but from something far deeper.

He had taken heart from her confidences in him. He was careful not to press his attentions too quickly, the sweet glances she gave him told him that she was wavering and he didn't want to risk Arthur wielding a sword in his direction, at least, not before he was certain that Gwen was by his side.

* * *

"_Come away with me, Gwen."_ Lancelot had said it so earnestly and it would be so easy to take his hand once more and fly from here. He told her he would wait until she was ready. He told her she was the only woman he had truly loved. He had pulled her close to him during their dance at the feast a few nights ago and whispered those words in her ear.

She had drawn away from him a little then, a subtle move but not before Arthur had noticed the movement of Lancelot's lips and the widening of her dark eyes. He also didn't miss the way the knight's arm had tightened just a little more around her waist until she stepped away from him.

* * *

She looked around the chambers that she still shared with her husband. In spite of all their differences, all their arguing, they had never thought to move to separate quarters. She ran a hand over the red tunic emblazoned with the golden dragon of Camelot which had been flung carelessly over the back of a chair. Still the same, Arthur had never really learnt to tidy up after himself. Clothes lay strewn over various pieces of furniture and Gwen did the same as she did each morning – she sorted the discarded clothing and neatly folded away the clean items and bundled the dirty ones for washing.

Upon becoming queen, she had made the conscious decision to not have any personal servants of her own. Having been a maid herself, she had loved her mistress and Lady Morgana had been a dear friend as well as a good employer. However, she had been brought up to be self-reliant, to fend for herself as much as possible and it was not in her nature to feel comfortable as someone else cleaned her mess when she could easily do it herself.

Arthur had been sweet, trying to talk her into having a servant as he no longer wanted her to have to do menial tasks as she had spent so long running after other people. She had protested that she would not be so messy as to require a servant to attend her and she reminded him that she felt no shame at having previously done those same menial tasks. He accepted that while her position in life might have changed, the person she was had not and that was who he had fallen in love with.

She held a shirt to her nose, inhaling the faint muskiness of his scent. It was a smell that always comforted her and whenever his duty as king had required him to spend time away from the castle, she would wear one of his shirts to bed. She would sleep better knowing there was something of his so close to her until he returned in person.

Camelot was all she had ever really known and it was an integral part of her being. She loved its land and its people. She loved its king. They had gone through so much together along with Merlin and Morgana (until her sudden and shocking change of fortune) and they were bonded as surely as the roots of the 500 year-old oaks were bonded and entwined with the earth.

* * *

That was how Arthur found Guinevere, her nose buried in what he was sure was a discarded shirt and his own nose wrinkled as he recalled that he had worn it for a heavy practise session yesterday. It was clearly a private moment for his wife and she looked so vulnerable just then, her eyes shut against the cares of the world with her only protection being a sweaty old shirt. He had not seen such tenderness from her in some time. Just like him, she had grown a hard shell to deflect the hurts of the cross words that had somehow become commonplace between them.

He dithered for a second as he tried to decide whether to leave her in peace or face the possibility of yet another pointless argument. His decision was made for him when he accidentally knocked his sword against the door as he began to turn to leave.

* * *

Startled by the unexpected noise, she looked up to find her husband clumsily trying to back out of their room.

"Arthur?"

"I'm sorry, Guinevere, I didn't mean to disturb you. I shall come back later." He apologised stiffly, slightly embarrassed.

She stared at him for a second, wondering when it had become normal for them to treat each other as strangers, to speak to each other as if they had barely laid eyes on each other before.

"Arthur, wait. Don't go." Gwen's voice was softly neutral but her eyes betrayed the plea behind her words.

He stopped his movement towards the door and turned to face her. Slowly, hesitantly, he made his way to stand beside her.

She sat on the edge of their bed and looked up at him uncertainly. "What's happened to us?" She said aloud the question that they had both been asking themselves.

"I don't know," he admitted. He sat next to her, afraid to ask her the question he truly wanted the answer to.

"Can we fix it? Can we fix _us_?"

"I think so…I hope so." They avoided looking at each other, unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Finally, he turned to her, eyes holding hers in a deep gaze. He had to know. "Are you going to leave? With him?" There, he had said it.

Gwen's jaw dropped open. "You knew?"

"I suspected." His voice was quiet as he asked again, "So are you?"

She had been mulling over her predicament for a time but she had made up her mind long before this moment had arrived. It wasn't fair to keep Arthur hanging on, especially if he already knew of Lancelot's intentions.

"No, Arthur, I'm not leaving." She reached slowly for his hand. She had missed his touch.

His hand closed over hers. "You mean it?" He could hardly believe it. He would have sworn that she would be packing her things by now.

"Not unless you want me to," she smiled gently, a hint of the old teasing that used to be so much a part of their conversation.

"No, no," he replied hurriedly, "I just thought…"

"You thought wrong," she interjected. "Believe me, I did think about it but it wasn't for that long." Gwen lifted her hand to stroke his cheek. "I still love you Arthur. I never stopped." She could feel the tears beginning to well up as the emotions that had been held back for such a long time were finally able to be released.

Arthur used his thumb to wipe away the first tear. "Me either. I love you more than anything in the world." He really did not know what he would have done if she had left him.

"So what happens now? We can't go on like we have been."

"You're right, we can't and we won't." He smiled at her. "How about we go away somewhere quiet and peaceful for a while, perhaps by a lake somewhere? Just you and me."

"That sounds wonderful." A worried frown appeared. "What about the town, the people?"

"Oh, I think Camelot can stand to be left in Merlin's charge for a bit and I know Sir Leon's been itching to have a break from the new recruits." His expression became serious. "I meant it, you know. You do mean everything to me."

Gwen could wait no longer. She leaned forward to kiss him with all the passion she had for him and that kiss told him better than words that she was and always would be his. When they finally broke apart, Gwen's lips curved and a wicked glint entered her eye as she rose to close the door and lock it.

She started to untie her corset with deliberate slowness as she approached her husband. "I think you're going to be late for the training field."

His strong arms came up to encircle her waist. "I'm sure they'll cope."

Gwen let out a giggle as Arthur abruptly pulled her down to the bed with him.

* * *

_**So that's the happy version, perhaps a bit heavy on the slush :p Hope u liked it though. oh, yes, i also kept Sir Leon alive. i was a bit upset that they fried him and other knights at the end of series 2 :( **_

_**thanks to everyone who has followed this fic x  
**_


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